Kataang Drabbles
by ouxes
Summary: Because even though I ship Zutara, there's something about Katara and Aang that I cant help but love...
1. Sweet Dreams, Aang

'Katara, are you awake?' Aang hissed nervously.

'Yeah, what's up?'

He pulled back the flap of the tent and his jaw dropped. Katara was lying on her front on the mat, her ankles crossed behind her back, wearing only a cropped white singlet with a thin sarong draped loosely over her backside. Her hair was all pushed over her left shoulder, leaving her right shoulder completely exposed to the blatant caresses of the orange lamplight. Aang's eyes trailed down her spine, over the dip in her lower back and the two dimples just above the sarong, to her smooth, olive thighs…

She looked up inquiringly from the manuscript she was studying.

'What's the matter?' she asked.

'Uh – I just, uh, couldn't sleep is all,' said Aang, collecting his thoughts and grinning sheepishly.

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Katara smiled.

'You can come in and sit with me if you want,' she invited, waving her hand at the spare mat opposite. 'I'm just reading this manuscript about Fire Nation culture, trying to get some background information.'

'Is it any good?'

Aang stepped inside, letting the tent flap fall closed again and sitting cross-legged opposite her. He didn't really care about Fire Nation culture. He didn't seem to be able to care about anything except the way Katara's singlet plunged in a deep V down her chest.

'It's actually quite interesting,' said Katara, looking back at the manuscript. 'It says here that the Fire Nation army have a specific salute that's meant to look like a flame.'

'That's nice,' said Aang, though he wasn't paying attention at all.


	2. Triumphant At Last

Aang turned and left the podium, walking tall and positively beaming with his own quiet, personal contentment. As soon as he was out of the public view, Katara burst out of the alcove and threw herself into his arms. He immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and clutched her to him, holding her closer than he had ever felt before. Katara buried her face into his shoulder, her fingers gripping the folds of his robe as though she were desperate to never let him go.

'I am so proud of you, Aang,' she said, her voice slightly muffled by the material. 'You really did it, you saved everyone!'

And she leaned back to look at him right in the face, her eyes shining with tears. His face was the same one she had seen in the iceberg, the same eyes she had known to be full of laughter, full of pain, full of anger and fear; she had known him for so long and yet she looked at him now with a different perception.

'I couldn't have done it without you,' he said, his big eyes burning with sincerity. 'You were amazing – all of this,' he waved his hand in the direction of the crowd, 'isn't for me, or for Zuko. It's for all of us and our achievement. I wouldn't even have made it out of the iceberg if it wasn't for you, Katara.'

They looked at each other for a moment, both pairs of eyes, silver and blue, burning with the deepest love that had been growing for what felt like forever.

'I love you, Katara,' said Aang fearlessly, without a single trace of hesitation. 'I have always loved you, right from the moment I saw your face.'

She couldn't fight the smile that coloured her cheeks pink.

'I love you, too, Aang,' she said, and every fragment of her being knew it to be true.

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his, and he kissed her back and never wanted to let her go.


	3. Moonlight

'Katara?'

Aang peered tentatively around a tree trunk and stopped in his tracks. Katara was standing knee-deep in the river, bending a ribbon of shimmering water around her; her hips swayed slightly as she moved her hands fluidly about her person, mirroring the body of water she was controlling. The nearly-full moon was high in the sky and cast a soft, silvery light over her figure – her cropped white singlet and skirt seemed to glow, and even from where he stood Aang could see every water droplet that clung her to bare waist glittering like diamond dust.

He felt suddenly embarrassed, as though he had walked in on something he wasn't supposed to see. But he could not look away. Concentration was written over her face and her brow was dipped with the intensity of her focus. The moves she was performing were not difficult or violent, she was merely absorbed in the very life and embodiment of the liquid itself. He knew this to be her form of meditation. She was in her element – quite literally.

The river babbled and gurgled as it flowed, sounding like the sweetest and most appropriate song to the sight. It was quiet and yet full of life.

Aang's heart swelled in his chest as he watched her progress. Katara's body moved like the water itself, swaying, twisting, bending and swirling in perfectly elegant movements. It was almost hypnotic and Aang soon lost track of how long he had been standing watching her.


	4. Always

'Katara, when I went to master the Avatar State with the Guru I – I couldn't do it,' Aang admitted, his eyes on the ground.

'What? Why?' asked Katara.

'He told me I had to let go of every earthly connection. And I mean _every_ one.' He looked up, his eyes full of pain and confusion. 'I couldn't let go of you and so my thought chakra became locked for good. Now I can't go into the Avatar State at all.'

Katara opened her mouth and then closed it again. A great surge of affection flooded through her and she obeyed her first instinct and took his hand.

'Aang, I'm really touched that you did but – you should have done what the Guru said.'

She didn't want to say it, every particle of her existence hated saying it, but she had to.

'It's so important for you to master the Avatar State; it's the only way we can win this war.'

'I know,' said Aang through gritted teeth, glaring at his knees. 'But I couldn't just let you go, Katara, I – I love you.'

Katara looked away, unsure of what to say. When she looked back, she saw Aang with his face screwed up, fighting tears that were spilling down his cheeks; and she pulled him into a hug, pressing her face into his neck.

'I will always be here for you,' she said, her words muffled slightly by his robe. 'Always.'


	5. The Proposal

'Katara?'

'Mm?'

When he didn't answer, Katara looked over her shoulder to see him standing between the balcony banister and the cactus pot-plant, obviously lingering there for her to join him. She allowed the water she was bending to slither back into the sea and curiously walked over to him.

A smile was playing around his lips as he watched her progress; she was wearing his favourite cropped white singlet and skirt, garments that hugged her figure and contrasted beautifully with the tone of her skin. As she approached, the flickering light from the lanterns on the porch steps illuminated the water droplets that clung to her waist. A scent of sea salt and moon flowers emanated from her skin.

Katara's feet left prints in the sand and she stopped just in front of him, looking up at his face with soft eyes. He only had flowy orange pants on; his slender, sculpted torso was thrown into an even more complimenting perspective by the position of the candlelight.

'What is it?' she asked.

'We've known each other for so long, Katara,' said Aang, putting his arrowed hands to rest on her hips. 'Almost as long as I can remember. You've always been there for me in a way no one else has, and you've taught me so much – not just about bending but about myself and the world around me. You've saved my life countless times, and we even ended up saving the entire world together.'

'Where are you going with this?' Katara asked, raising an eyebrow despite the butterflies that were rapidly multiplying in the pit of her stomach.

A strange kind of fear suddenly gripped her where she stood. His eyes softened as he continued.

'But after everything that we've been through, I still wake up every day unable to believe that you're beside me. You make me feel so lucky, Katara, and I love you so, so much.' He took a deep breath and raised his hand to lightly twist a lock of her hair behind her ear. Aang's eyes were dancing with a familiar passion; Katara's heartbeat quickened. 'I could go the rest of my life without being able to bend a single element, but –' He took his palm from her cheek to twirl his fingers, weaving a thin ribbon of water from the oil lamp on the step, a string of pebbles from the pot-plant, a disk of air and a snake of fire to swirl around each other into the shape of a glowing heart, '– I couldn't go a single day without you. Katara, will you be my wife?'

As soon as the words left his lips, Katara's heart leapt into her throat. She stared into his beautifully familiar face – a face in which she had seen the most carefree laughter, the most destroying sadness, the most dangerous rage and the most heart-wrenching fear; but in him now she saw a deep, pure, gentle love smoulder, a love she had reciprocated for what seemed like forever. And she smiled.

'Of course I'll be your wife, Aang,' she replied. 'I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.'


End file.
